


flatline;

by AgustYoonSwag



Category: K-pop, NCT (Band), NCT Dream
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angel Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Attempted Kidnapping, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Character Death, Coma, Dark Past, Death, Flatline, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Minor Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Lee Jeno, Non-Explicit, Not Really Character Death, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Aftermath, Sad Mark Lee (NCT), Semicolon - Freeform, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, Symbolism, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, comatose haechan, comatose mark lee
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-01 07:44:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16760923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgustYoonSwag/pseuds/AgustYoonSwag
Summary: One day, Donghyuck opened his eyes. A vastness of white surrounded him, endless on all sides. When everything shifted to black, Donghyuck brought the light. When the light came, he could finally see again, he could breathe again.





	1. flatline;

**Author's Note:**

> This story can also be found on AsianFanfic under the username AgustYoonSwag.
> 
> This story has mentions of rape/sexual assault. It is non-graphic for the most part.
> 
> This story has major character death.
> 
> There are mentions of suicide, suicidal thoughts, non-con actions, depression, and other sensitive topics.

"Donghyuck..." Mark began, voice low as he tugged at the hem of his white shirt, "I think... I'm in love with you."

Donghyuck opened his eyes, his vision blurred as it adjusted to the fluorescent lighting of the hospital room. His head spun, a groan escaping his cracking, dry lips, tongue desperately trying to lather them in saliva in attempts of rehydrating them. Donghyuck looked around the room, at his bedside were various flowers and balloons, prettily wrapped boxes were scattered across the tables and floors. A bright, white beam of sunlight glistened through gaps in the curtains of the windows, sun highlighting the dust that slowly floated through the air. It was peaceful, at least, it would have been had Donghyuck's ears not tuned in to the slow beeping of a heart monitor.

Donghyuck propped himself on his shoulders, muscles stiff and aching with the slightest of movement. A pained hiss seeped through his lips, his eyes scanning the bed across the room. A dark-haired boy laid motionless in the white hospital bed, his skin ghostly as the heart monitor continued to slow. A feeling of familiarity struck Donghyuck as he stared at the boy, however, he was not able to place his face anywhere in his memories. His heart twisted as he continued to stare at the boy across from him, all the while the boy remained still. Donghyuck closed his eyes, trying to muster all of his thoughts together and figure out just where he had seen the boy before. As if on cue, Donghyuck remembered. His conversations with Mark rushing back to him all at once, however, it was too late for him to remember. He was too late, it was too late.

From across the room came a high tone, the sound of a flatline.


	2. agony;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning : Chapter contains rape/non-con. While everything is not depicted, it is rather graphic. Mentioning of abuse and suicidal thoughts are also in this chapter. Please do not read further if these topics make you uncomfortable.

It was scary, terrifying, traumatizing. Fire spread across his body, sweat broke out across his forehead. His body jerked, twisting in every way possible as he tried to free himself from the other's grip. Harsh, sloppy kisses were pressed to his face, jaw, and chest all in a rapid motion. What remained of his shirt was ripped off in a singular movement of a hand. Tears rolled down his cheeks, beading one after another like rain falling from clouds. Every touch left a searing pain against his flesh, a horrible reminder. He could feel the ropes digging into his wrists, rubbing the skin raw as he tried his hardest to wiggle them loose. His lips were swollen and bleeding from rough bites, saliva framed them and repulsed him.

  
No matter how much he struggled, how hard he tried, it was impossible to break from the restraints the other had placed upon him. This was it, this was the death of his innocence, this was the death of his happiness. His stomach knotted until the pain was unbearable, bile rushing up his throat as he headbutted the man that had been assaulting him until then. The scent of booze and sweat was now mixed with that of what he had for lunch earlier that day, back when things were normal. A stinging sensation flared across his cheek, his head jerking to the side in one motion. Bile and the remnants of food in his stomach rushed to his throat as his cheek came into contact with the concrete of the floor.

  
His head spun, vomit gagging him and nearly choking him as he heaved against the floor. Fluid and the remains of his lunch spread across the floor at his face, the stench stinging his eyes and making him feel even sicker. A sharp kick met his stomach, forcing whatever was left in him out along with a spurt of blood. He coughed, tears rolling down his cheeks in a never-ending stream, throat hoarse, and body aching. A foot forced his body to roll to the side, his back now against the concrete and eyes now staring directly into the singular yellow light that hung above him. He could feel his body bruising, he could feel the stinging of each open wound, he could feel the absolute disgust boiling within himself. But, overall, he could only feel helpless. He could only sit and wait as the drunken man stripped him naked, hands traveling all over his body to places he had wished to keep pure until he met the right person.

  
The pain was unbearable, not because it hurt, but because it reminded him how he was alive, how he had to suffer through this. It made him sick, it made him sad, it made his heart ache. He continued to stare at the yellow light above him, vision clouding with colorful splotches as it wavered between in focus and out of focus. The pain he felt made him feel numb, it made him feel inhuman. It made him want to die, to close his eyes and never wake up, to disappear. So he did, he closed his eyes as the remainder of his clothing was ripped away from his body.

* * *

Mark woke up to the fluorescent lighting of a hospital room, stiff, papery sheets brought past his shoulders and tickling his chin. For a moment, he thought it had all been a wickedly twisted nightmare, that he had dreamt it all and he was okay. However, the soreness of his body and searing pain in his backside and hips convinced him otherwise. Tears once again found their way to his eyes, dribbling down his cheeks as he slowly came to terms with what had happened to him. What hurt most of all, however, was not what had happened, but that he had survived it. He would have to live on with memories of what had happened, he'd have to live on in the same body that had been violated and defiled. He'd have to see his face in the mirror every morning, bruises, cuts, and scarred lips taunting him until they healed. He'd have to live with himself, and everything that had happened, all on his own. He couldn't handle it, he didn't want it, all he had wanted was to live a happy life. Things weren't as simple as that.

For as long as he had remembered, he had suffered. His family was poor, his mother sick, and father a no good bastard. He had no friends, no one would ever stick around him long enough for him to have any. To him, and his family, he had always messed things up. There was no doubt in mind that he would be blamed for what had happened to him. He'd have to work himself to the bone to pay his family back for his hospital bills. There was nothing he could do about it. He'd been forced to live life through Hell and back. He felt like a goldfish, swimming alone in a small plastic cup. He felt trapped.

He came to the conclusion that maybe, things would be better if they were to stop altogether. If he were to stop altogether. He had decided it, after weeks, months, years of suffering, he had decided he wanted it to stop. He'd drop out of school, spending both day and night working until he had enough money to repay his parents. That's all he would have to do, that's all he needed to do. All he needed to do before he could stop it all. 

The violent thoughts racing through his head were thrown to the window upon a nurse entering his room. She proceeded to check on him, growing irritated every time he would flinch away from any sort of physical contact or how he would refuse to speak of how he got his injuries. Upon looking at him, she didn't think that such a cute, young boy would get into fights in which he would be found unconscious. However, his display of behavior was enough to change her mind, after all, the looks of a person don't say much for the mind of a person. This was something Mark knew all too well.

* * *

Mark didn't have a story to tell. He didn't have anything to look up to, or anything to aspire to be. He had no individual purpose, he was only a puppet to be used in other's plays. He wasn't special, not in any way, shape, or form. He was just a little, weak unfortunate boy. A boy born to the wrong family, the wrong path. Nothing he ever did seemed to go right, and somehow, that was his fault. At least, that's how his father always made it seem. Not that his mother disagreed with him, she was too sick and weak herself to stand up to him. Mark's story was nothing worth remembering. There was no happiness to tell in his life of mental, verbal, and physical abuse. Not only that, there was no one to listen to it, no one to remember it. That's how it had always been, even now, it only seemed to get worse.


	3. puppet;

Mark could feel his body slowly shutting down. He could feel his mind clouding day by day. He could see his world blurring every day as he wept and wept. He could feel himself dying, he could feel his hope dying. He could feel his heart breaking, knives twisting. The only thing reminding him he was still breathing, still suffering, was the constant assault put on him by his father. And the constant empty stare he had always received from his mother.

Mark's world was cold and grey, that's how it had always been. Nothing for him would change, the world would constantly be faded, shrouded by sadness and worry. He longed to see the color of life, the blue of the sunlit sky, the oranges and reds of the sunset. However, he only ever saw grey and the purple bruising. How he wished it would change, yet how he feared the color he so longed for.

He took a pencil in his had, scrawling messy words of regret and suffering across a page of his notebook. Tears spilled from his eyes as he wrote the words no one would care to read. As he wrote the words that led to this moment in his life, he wrote his story of abuse, of neglect, of pain... He wrote about how he was sick of being everyone's puppet. He wrote about how he was sick of being blamed for every bad thing that ever happened. He wrote of how he was sorry he messed everything up. When the graphite of his pencil was now flat against the wood he sighed, eyes glazing over as they stared at the page in front of him. 

Overcome with anger, he ripped the page out of the notebook, crumpling it into a ball and throwing it to the floor. He was enraged with the emotions he felt, he was enraged with himself. He hated himself, anyone could see that, but no one could care. It only made him more furious, all those negative thoughts he always tried to lock away once again swimming around freely in his mind. He was like a guppy, left to murky waters and clouded glass. No one could see his beautiful colors, especially himself. No one dared to care about him, or the water he swam in, or the filthy walls he was enclosed in. No one had time to care, no one wanted to care, not even Mark.

* * *

Today was the day, the day Mark's suffering would end. For once, he was elated, excited for a day. However, it was for all the wrong reasons, and the happiness he had felt came far too late in his life. Mark walked to work, a skip in his step as he counted the squares of the sidewalk along the way.

Seven thousand and fifty-eight.

Mark arrived at the corner store he worked at, cheeks reddened from the cold winter air. It had been exactly three weeks and one day since Mark got out of the hospital, three weeks and one day since Mark had begun working to pay for his freedom. After today's shift, Mark would get paid approximately 496,511 won, enough to pay off his hospital bills and have some left over. Not that he would need it.

Mark opened the glass door that was plastered in promotional posters and advertisements, reminding himself to wash his hands after touching the handle. He sighed, taking off his coat as he made his way to the backroom. He threw his coat into his cubby, grabbing his uniform and entering the employee bathroom before quickly getting changed. Mark gave a small nod of greeting to his co-worker, Yuta, after coming out from the bathroom. Yuta waved in response, giving him a small smile before grabbing his own uniform out of his cubby. Making his way out of the backroom, Mark came across his other co-worker, Renjun, who offered a small smile as he paused from restocking the shelves. 

Renjun gives a shy greeting, stuttering as he struggles to pronounce the words, "G-good aft-after-afternoon..."

Mark cringed slightly at the awkwardness radiating from the stuttering Chinese boy, though he hoped it didn't show on his face. Renjun hurriedly shoved the remaining bags of chips onto the shelf and picked up the box they had been in previously, standing up and following Mark behind the register. Mark swallowed slightly, not all to up for social interaction even if he was in a good mood.

"W-what's up? Do you need something?" Mark asked, while Renjun couldn't speak Korean well, he could understand it.

Renjun's dark hair bounced slightly against his head as he shook it, a smile gracing his features as he slipped back to his native tongue, " _You just seem happy today, I'm glad you are in a good mood._ "

Mark tilted his head for a second before straightening it once more, he had absolutely no clue what Renjun had said, the only word he had recognized in the foreign tongue was the word 'good' which he had remember being taught by an old _friend_. Without realizing it, a scowl spread across his face upon remembering the boy. Renjun shrunk back slightly, thinking he had possibly upset Mark by speaking in Chinese rather than Korean, not that he had meant to though. Mark shook his head slightly, removing the thoughts from his mind and ignoring the sadness that tugged at his heart.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand what you just said," Mark said, bowing slightly to the younger. "Don't worry, I'm not upset with you or anything."

"Ah! Okay." Renjun smiled, a gentle laugh escaping him before his cheeks tinted a familiar red as he tried to muster up the correct words to tell Mark, "You- Happy, very happy! Good!"

Mark chuckled the slightest bit, the first time he had laughed in months. A small upturn of his lips was enough to get Renjun to give him a beaming smile since Mark never truly expressed emotions, especially happy ones, he was glad he was able to get the smallest hint of a smile out of him. Yuta came out from the backroom, adjusting the nametag that was placed just above his left pectoral.

" _Gee, why are you two in such a good mood?_ " Yuta asked, clearing his throat as he realized he asked in Japanese rather than Korean, "I mean, why are you two so happy today?"

Renjun clapped his hands together, turning his head to look at Yuta directly, "Mark smiles! Happy, very happy!"

Mark cringed once more, no longer finding the younger's weak Korean amusing like he had the first time. Yuta, however, did chuckle at the younger's Korean, giving him a pat on the shoulder as to say 'Good job'. Mark looked at Yuta's hand that was resting on Renjun's shoulder. An uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach, a feeling he wished he never felt. Mark extended his arm, wrapping his finger's around Renjun's wrist and pulling him away from Yuta. A playful smirk spread across Yuta's face.

" _Jealous, Mark?_ " Yuta teased, a laugh escaping him before he scratched the back of his neck. 

Renjun looked at Mark with a confused quirk of an eyebrow before turning to look at Yuta, sending him the same look. Yuta only shrugged, a grin playing at his lips as he brushed passed the both of them and went to sit on one of the chairs behind the register. Renjun looked back at Mark as he released the younger's wrist. Noticing the color that had drained from Mark's face caused Renjun's raised eyebrow of confusion to turn into one of concern.

Renjun raised his hand slightly, extending his index finger towards Mark, "Okay?"

Mark's eyes snapped to meet Renjun's as he blinked, a small surprised hum escaped him, "Oh, yeah. I'm fine Renjun."

Mark offered a small smile to Renjun, causing the younger to beam once more as he believed the fake smile the older put on was genuine. Mark took the box Renjun had been holding from his hands, tucking it under an arm as he headed towards the back of the small convenience store. Renjun watched as Mark opened the back door of the store before he turned to Yuta, picking up a small conversation with him.

Mark flipped the top of the large dumpster open before he looked at the box in his hands, wondering if he should break it up before putting it inside. He shook his head, deciding to just throw it in as is before he wiped his hands on the apron of his uniform, which he didn't understand why he had to wear. Mark made his way back to the back door, opening it before returning to the store, Renjun and Yuta holding a small conversation with one another being the only source of noise. A soft crinkle came from one of the small aisles of snacks causing Mark to turn his head.

Who he saw holding a small, red bag of chips was enough to make his heart stop. Though his hair was now light brown instead of the light purple he had sported a year prior, there was no doubt about who the male was. Mark recognized him immediately, and he wished he hadn't.

"Chenle..?" Mark muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, though, the brown-haired male in question still seemed to hear him.

Chenle turned his head, his face not much different than it had been a year ago, still looking almost the same despite looking slightly more mature. His eyes widened for a brief moment before going back to their normal size.

"Oh," Chenle began as he put the bag of chips back on the shelf, a smirk tugging at the left corner of his lips, "Been a while, Markus."


	4. red;

Mark felt the muscles in his shoulders tense and tighten as they scrunched up. He stepped back slightly, hoping to escape any conversation that might follow the words that already left Chenle's mouth. It was a mistake, coming to work was a mistake, helping Renjun was a mistake, noticing Chenle was a mistake. Chenle turned his body, now facing Mark entirely, a portion of his teeth now visible as his lips opened into the smirk that tugged at his lips. Mark wanted to cry, to scream, to run and hide from his fears and worries. Yet, the fear that haunted him the most was now staring him right in the eyes, arm reaching for the bag of chips he had been looking at previously.

"It's been a year, Markus." Chenle spoke, voice low. "When are you going to visit him?"

Mark took another step back, watching as Chenle's fingers pulled at the top of the chip bag, opening it before he took out a chip and ate it. Chenle wiped his hand on the side of his pants before stepping towards Mark, negating the distance the older was trying so hard to make between them. Mark's eyes shifted around the store nervously looking for anywhere he could possibly escape and hide or anyone that could save him. Renjun had his back turned to him and Yuta was too immersed in the conversation he was having with the younger to pay any attention to him. It was pointless to cry for help, it would only give Chenle the satisfaction of intimidating him once more and it would embarrass him to no end.

"Chenle," Mark turned his head to the source of the voice, an unfamiliar male with deep red hair stood in the aisle adjacent from the one Chenle had just been in. 

Mark both sighed in relief due to the appearance of the male and scoffed at the male's appearance. Mark never liked it when people dyed their hair, he didn't see the point in it. If you want to dye your hair, you might as well just shave your head. At least, that's how Mark saw it. Though, Mark couldn't deny that the male was handsome, or, pretty upon closer inspection. Though Mark didn't like the male's hair, it did suit him. Especially the way the cut framed his face, and the dark color drew out the deep color of his eyes. 

Mark shook his head, ridding thoughts that were utterly useless to him before he directed his gaze back to Renjun and Yuta. Renjun, rather than having his back turned like it was previously, was now facing the three of them. A smile slowly spread across his face before he stepped away from behind the counter.

" _Chenle? Is that you?_ " Renjun asked once again speaking the Mandarin he was raised to know, walking closer just to make sure he wasn't mistaking the light brown-haired male for someone else.

Chenle turned his head in a somewhat dramatic manner, a smile overcoming his features upon seeing Renjun, " _Renjun? I didn't know you worked here! I didn't even know you lived in Korea!_ "

Mark swallowed, uncomfortable with the scene that was unfolding in front of him. Did they know each other? How? Why did Mark care if they knew each other? Mark opened his mouth to speak, shuffling his feet awkwardly.

"Y-You two know each other?" Mark stammered out, hoping for a response whether it be in Chenle's fluent Korean or Renjun's broken Korean, though, he preferred the latter.

Chenle hummed, Renjun nodding, "Yeah. We're old **friends**."

"I-I... I see..." Mark muttered, his gaze falling away from Renjun and landing on the dingy white floors of the store. "I'll let you two catch up."

Mark didn't know why, but Chenle's words saddened him. He wasn't even all too close to Renjun, why did he care? He felt his heart twist in his chest as he stepped away from the two. With each step he took, he felt his small trust in Renjun fade away. It wasn't his fault, no, it wasn't Renjun's fault. Renjun didn't do what Chenle did, Renjun wasn't like Chenle, Renjun wasn't a monster. Renjun was just a shy Chinese boy who started working the same job as him three months ago. He was just a foreign boy trying to make friends and a living for himself. It wasn't his fault. Chenle hurt him, it's Chenle's fault. They just happen to be friends, that's all. They only know each other. Renjun wouldn't do that... Renjun isn't like him, Renjun wouldn't hurt him.

"Mark?" Renjun called to the older, though, it was already too late, Mark had already walked out the front door of the store.

Mark ran a hand through his hair, his mind filling with irrational fears and worries that he wished he didn't have. He walked down the sidewalk, counting the squares until they stopped. Nineteen. A loud noise filled his ears, making his eardrums feel as if they would split. Then a scream, Renjun, it was Renjun's scream. Renjun's bloodcurdling scream.

Mark could feel his bones break and skin tear upon impact. He could feel each time his body rolled once it landed on the pavement. He could feel his shoulder bust as it collided directly into a lamppost. He could feel chunks of glass in his face and arms. Everything was black, he was trapped in more darkness than he had ever been in his whole life. He could feel someone touching him, picking up his body, flinching as his blood came into contact with his skin. He could hear someone crying, sobbing, through his ringing ears he could hear each ounce of sadness that poured from them. He felt his world closing in on him, he felt his life closing in on him.

* * *

_"Y-you... you- You killed him!" Mark cried, newfound fear for the male standing in front of him weighing down his heart._

  
_"I didn't kill him! It was an accident! I wouldn't kill my best friend!" Chenle cried, tears racing down his cheeks, clothes still wet with water from the river._

  
_"Y-you're... you're a monster..." Mark breathed, his hand gesturing to Chenle wildly._

  
_"I didn't kill him, Mark!" Chenle exclaimed, being mindful that no one in the hospital heard him, "All I did was playfully shove him, he slipped! I TRIED to SAVE him!" He yelled, his voice rising as he showed off just how wet his clothes were, even an hour later._

  
_"M-murderer... you're a murderer!" Mark cried, his voice raising as well as tears of his own fell down his cheeks and labored breaths escaped him._

  
_" Mark! You aren't listening to me! I TRIED to SAVE him!" Chenle said, grabbing Mark's shoulders and looking into his eyes, "I pulled him out of the water! He was already dead! He landed on one of the rocks, it killed him instantly. I didn't kill him Mark! I didn't mean for him to slip! It was an accident! If I could go back in time, I'd throw myself off the bridge before I ever pushed him!" Chenle sobbed, trying his hardest to maintain his eye contact with Mark through his tears._

* * *

Through the darkness that had swallowed Mark whole came a light, a light so blinding that he thought he might be saved. Mark's eyes opened the slightest bit, letting the world around him back in. Tears fell onto his cheeks from the person holding him. Who was holding him? It wasn't Renjun, no, Renjun wasn't near him. He could hear Renjun a few feet away from him. Who was holding him? Mark choked up a small spurt of blood, having nowhere to go after coming up it remained on his face.

His lips parted slightly, the light he saw growing brighter despite everything still being grey, "Jisung?"


	5. shadow;

Mark opened his eyes, his vision clouded and blurry. His body felt light, his feet felt like they barely touched the ground, as if he was floating. His eyes felt heavy as they began to be pressed closed once more, death weighing down on them like a ton of bricks. Through his half-lidded eyes and foggy vision, he could make out the form of a boy, or at least someone with short hair.

"Jisung?" Mark muttered, his voice coming out in a stammered whisper, his eyes lidding more than they had been previously.

"Y-you..." the young boy stammered, "You can see me?" Jisung said, stepping towards Mark, his hand going towards his eyes to cover them.

The feeling of Jisung's cold hands made Mark shiver against his gentle touch, though upon his hands being removed he felt brought back to life. As if Jisung's hands had some sort of magic in them, he felt grounded once more, he felt like he was able to breathe again. He felt alive. He opened his eyes, the boy in front of him as clear as crystal, his vision now restored to its proper state. The smile the young boy had shared with Mark just a year prior was present on his face, Jisung looked the same as he had a year ago just before his death. The large gaping wound present on his head after the accident was nowhere in sight, he looked unharmed, he looked alive. Yet somehow, his eyes looked so sad, you couldn't mistake him for someone living anymore.

Park Jisung was no longer part of the same world as Mark, upon seeing him, he didn't know if he was part of his world anymore either. Jisung had only been fourteen when he had gotten into the accident, he would have turned fifteen this year. It saddened Mark, to see his friend so young and sad when he should be maturing and happy. A lump began to form in his throat the longer he stared at Jisung with his mouth agape, he struggled to form words, let alone speak them.

Mark smiled, a bitter and sad smile, but a smile nonetheless, "It's been a while," Mark said, his tone sweet as tears formed in his eyes, "old friend."

Jisung's smile fell upon the sight of the tears that beaded down Mark's cheeks, he extended his hand, wiping away the tears hastily before his eyes landed on Mark's chest. His plain white shirt contrasted with Jisung's brightly colored pink sweater, the black emitting from his chest contrasted against the bright white coming from Jisung's. Jisung frowned, tears of his own forming in his eyes though he refused to let them fall.

"Mark..." Jisung began, extending his hand to place it over Mark's heart, "The world hasn't been so kind to you, has it?"

Mark's eyes widened, "I-... H-how...?" He stuttered as he tried to form a proper sentence, only to fail in the end.

Jisung's light touch moved across his friend's chest, the black that radiated from Mark seemingly staining his fingers. Jisung pulled his hand back, looking at the black that now covered his hand like spilled paint, spreading ever so slowly as it reached his wrist.

"Your soul..." Jisung began before shaking his head, "No... Your heart. It's heavy and sad. It's in pain."

Mark stared at Jisung's hand, watching as the black continued to spread up his arm, "J-Jisung... Why is your skin-"

"Mark, I can't ease your pain," Jisung stated sadly, "Even if I were to try and absorb it until all I am is a black splotch of paint against the white of this void."

"I don't understand what you're saying, Jisung." Mark said, his eyebrows knitting in confusion.

"You- you can't see it?" Jisung began, looking at Mark as if he had just claimed to have ridden to heavens gate on a pony. "H-how can you not see it? It's right there." Jisung brought his now blackened hand to his own chest, Mark watching as it was restored to its natural color, "You can see it right? The light coming from my chest?"

Mark shook his head, "No, what are you talking about Jisung?"

Jisung stepped back from Mark, creating a rather decent distance between the two, "It's not time..."

"Jisung?" Mark began, stepping towards Jisung only for the younger to step back again.

Jisung's form began to fade slowly, "It's not time Mark..."

"It's not time for what?" Mark asked, now beginning to grow slightly agitated by the lack of clarity in Jisung's words.

"It's not time for you to die!" Jisung cried, tears now beading down his cheeks even though he didn't want to show weakness to Mark.

Jisung's form dissolved in front of Mark, leaving behind a small puff of white that rushed straight towards Mark, seeping into his chest and causing him to fall unconscious.

* * *

" _Mark!_ " Renjun screamed, his voice ripping through the air, almost as loud as the impact of the truck against Mark's body and the squealing of tires that followed.

Yuta followed after Renjun as soon as he ran out of the store, taking the hysterical male in his arms as tight as he could to prevent him from getting any closer to the younger that now lay in the road. Renjun flailed in Yuta's hold, trying anything to break out of the Japanese male's grip and run to Mark.

" _Mark!_ " Renjun cried, sobbings shaking his body as he struggled to break out of Yuta's hold, " _Get up!_ "

Yuta tightened his grip around the smaller male's waist, struggling to keep him from jerking every which way in attempts to escape, "Renjun! Calm down!"

" _How can I calm down?!_ " Renjun sobbed, mandarin slipping through his teeth in loud screeches, " _Mark! Please get up!_ "

"Donghyuck!" Chenle yelled upon running out of the store after Renjun and Yuta, "Call an ambulance!"

Donghyuck emerged from the store after Chenle, nearly vomiting at the sight just down the street. Donghyuck fished out his phone from his pocket, turning his back on the scene in front of him as to not get sick. Chenle walked down the sidewalk, trying his hardest not to look at Renjun as he hysterically sobbed in Yuta's arms, flailing his body in every way possible in attempts to break from the older's hold. Chenle slowed as he grew closer to Mark, blood coming from multiple wounds on his body and staining his clothing. His head hung at an angle that seemed not only horribly painful but inhuman. Chenle stared at the male for a moment, trying to prevent the tears that threatened to fall upon the sight of his old friend.

Getting down on his knees, Chenle pulled Mark into him, careful not to injure him further. Chunks of glass stuck out from the older's skin, Chenle's hand shaking as he tried to removed a few of the smaller chunks that weren't embedded deeply into the other's flesh. Chenle lifted his head away from Mark, looking to Renjun who was now only a few feet away from him, his struggle seeming to have pulled Yuta along with him as the older refused to let go. Renjun's eyes were sparkling with tears as his knees gave out beneath him, pulling both him and Yuta to the ground, though Yuta was able to maintain a squat as he held the younger male up.

Everything was quiet, Chenle's ears rang as he turned back to Mark, every few seconds his ears would tune into Donghyuck's voice on the phone, frantic yet slow as the older tried not to get sick, or Renjun's heavy sobs and whimpers, or the mutterings of the crowd that slowly began to form around them. Tears were now beading down his cheeks, dripping from his chin onto Mark's cheeks as he sobbed.

"Don't die... Don't die..." Chenle cried quietly, "Please don't die... you're all I have left... Please..."

Mark coughed, blood now running down his lips as it spilled from his mouth, a pained, desperate croak leaving his lips, "Jisung?"

* * *

The sound of sirens seemingly brought a light of hope to Chenle upon hearing them. The tears that fell down his cheeks stopped momentarily as Mark was lifted from his arms and immediately placed on a stretcher, an oxygen mask placed over his mouth as the medical team quickly tried to stabilize him for the ride to the hospital. Mark was carefully moved into the back on the ambulance.

"Are you guys his friends?" A member of the medical team asked to which Chenle hesitated before nodding.

The medical staff member sighed, "Are any of you planning to ride with him?"

Chenle swallowed, looking to Yuta, "I- We-"

Yuta cut in, "He and I will go."

" _Me too-_ " Renjun cried as Yuta let him go.

"No, Renjun. Stay here with Donghyuck." Yuta said, "The ambulance will be too crowded otherwise, plus, you're emotionally unstable right now. Things will only be more chaotic."

Chenle sighed, "He's right Renjun... I'll text you once we get to the hospital alright? You and Donghyuck need to look after the store."

Renjun frowned, wiping his tears away with his arms and he sniffled, " _I want to come with though!_ "

"We'll text you as soon as you get to the hospital. You can join us then, I'll let the boss know what happened and you guys can close up shop." Yuta said, stepping into the back of the ambulance and pulling Chenle up.

" _Okay..._ " Renjun sniffled.


	6. orphan;

Chenle awoke with a jolt, his eyes scanning the hospital hallway as a cold sweat beaded down his face. He looked to the clock on the wall, 7:38 PM. Across from him was Renjun, head in his hands as he continued to cry just as he had been before Chenle fell asleep an hour ago. Yuta sat next to Renjun, awkwardly trying the comfort the younger, though growing tired from trying for so many hours already. Donghyuck sat on the floor, scrolling through social media on his phone, his face still green with nausea.

A nurse came out of Mark's hospital room after moving him there from the emergency room, muttering something about 'terrible parents' and how she couldn't believe they wouldn't show up to see their son after such a horrible accident. Chenle stood, fingers dabbing at his sticky, sweaty forehead before he tried to get the nurses attention.

"Excuse me, can we... see him now?" Chenle asked, his voice cracking with sleep.

The nurse sighed, her hands going to her hips, "I guess the lot of you is better than no one, his parents haven't come even for a minute just to check on him. We've been calling them since he arrived."

Chenle hummed, "Yeah, his parents won't show up no matter how much you call them. Don't send the bills to them, they won't pay them. He might as well be an orphan."

The nurse huffed rather bitterly before shaking her head and making her way down the hall. Chenle's gaze moved to Yuta, who was now standing up, his eyes on Renjun, seemingly asking him if he wanted to see Mark with them. Chenle snapped in front of Donghyuck's face, gaining his attention before grabbing his arm and pulling him into a standing position. Renjun looked at Yuta from the corner of his eye before carelessly wiping away his tears and standing up slowly.

Chenle reached for the handle, turning it slowly before opening the door with a slight creak. Chenle stepped in slowly, the familiar hospital room smell from a year ago bringing back all sorts of memories he'd rather forget. The sight of Mark unconscious in his hospital bed was all too familiar a sight to him, despite the one in the bed being a different person. Chenle closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath and hoping to forget the memories the scene in front of him brought. However, Yuta's chest bumping into his back was enough to make him open his eyes and dive toward the bathroom, throwing up almost as soon as he slammed the door behind him.

Along with the vomit that choked him, came sobs. Sobs and violent memories that tormented him every day. 

* * *

Chenle remembered the sobs of Jisung's parents that day, they echoed those of Renjun's, yet somehow, Renjun's sobs alone were louder than both of Jisung's parent's sobs that day. He remembered the look on Mark's face, the look that could be found a Yuta's face, the look of holding in both tears and anger. It was like his memories were replaying right in front of him, the roles changed. To say the death of his best friend had mentally fucked him up would be an understatement. Knowing that the reason he died was because of him only added to the emotional and psychological trauma. The fact that Mark was now in the same place as Jisung, for the same reason, made Chenle feel like the biggest scum on earth.

Chenle gagged, retching heavily before forcing himself up, legs shaking as he struggled to keep his balance. He made his way to the door, ignoring the sickness that continued to press on his stomach. Upon opening the door, he saw a scene that mirrored a memory of the previous year. Renjun clung to Mark's bandaged hand, forehead pressed against the edge of the hospital bed as sobs ripped through his body. Yuta stood slightly away from everyone, his face cold as stone as he blankly stared at Mark, his gaze drifting from his covered body to his exposed head. Donghyuck stared at the heart monitor, sitting next to Renjun and rubbing his back as he sobbed. 

" _Mark..._ " Renjun sobbed, " _I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry... It's all my fault._ "

Chenle frowned upon hearing the older's words, being the only one that could understand him. He glanced at Mark sighing before hanging his head, " _you always fuck things up, don't you Chenle?_ "

Chenle sighed, stepping away from the others before stepping out of the room, nearly getting run over by the boy on the stretcher that was being wheeled into the room next to Mark's. Donghyuck came out soon after Chenle, once again scrolling through his phone.

"You okay, Chenle?" Donghyuck asked, eyes never leaving his phone.

Chenle shrugged, before speaking words that defied his actions, "Yeah. I'm okay." Chenle muttered, turning to look at Donghyuck, "How about you? You looked like you felt rather queasy before."

Donghyuck hummed slightly, "Nah, I'm good. Jeno was just being like, sickeningly cringy."

Chenle scoffed slightly, "Yeah, whatever you say." Chenle frowned slightly, "You're still with that guy?"

Donghyuck shrugged, still not looking up from his phone, "Yeah."

A hum came from behind the two of them, "Am I interrupting something?"

Chenle turned his head, locking eyes with the sullen Japanese male that was Yuta, "No. Wheres Renjun?"

Yuta sighed, scuffing a foot against the tiling of the hallway floors, "He refuses to leave Mark's side. I mean, I don't really blame him. The kid is head over heels in love with him. Of course, he wouldn't want to leave his side."

Chenle hummed slightly, remembering his friend's red cheeks whenever he'd look at the older, "Yeah, it makes sense. It's... It's really horrible. The condition he's in... everything really."

* * *

Renjun stumbled out of the room, shoulders slumped, eyes sore, and cheeks red with tear stains. He stared at the small slip of paper in his hand, mindlessly walking through the halls until he reached the front desk.

"Uhh..." Renjun began, his cheeks flushing as one of the ladies behind the counter looked up at him.

"Yes?" The lady asked, her voice sweet and providing some comfort to the already ruined Renjun, "Do you need help with something?"

"Eh... Mark Lee?" Renjun replied though it came out as more of a question as he raised an unsure finger to point down the hall, "Patient. Uh... Billing go here."

Renjun held the slip of paper towards the lady behind the counter, smiling nervously as he did so. The lady smiled softly, taking the paper from Renjun's shaking hands before reading it over.

"You want the billing for the patient in room 217 to be sent to this address?" She asked, eyes once again meeting Renjun's.

Renjun nodded his head, "Yes! Yes, Mark Lee bill go there."

The lady hummed, "May I ask who lives at this address? His parents?"

Renjun shook his head, hair bouncing as he did so, "No no, Me. I live." Renjun pointed to himself, once again growing flustered at his messy Korean, "K-Korean... uh... name Hwang Injun."


	7. void;

Mark opened his eyes, taking in the darkness that surrounded him. He couldn't see anything in front of him, yet he felt like he could see to the edges of the earth. Mark looked at his hands, his vision clouded with static, his hands shaking though they appeared to be nothingness. White sleeves trailed his arms, white pants sheathed his legs, white sneakers hid his feet. He contrasted against the dark, like the spot of Jupiter's storm, an impurity. Mark stepped into the void, an arm outstretched as he felt for walls that kept him closed in. Yet, no matter how far his feet carried him, there were none. 

His feet moved faster, soon his cautious walk became a frantic sprint as he searched for anything, anyone to free him from the darkness he was trapped in. Ragged breaths hissed through his teeth, his legs quivering with every step he took until he fell down. He felt a pain in his knees when they impacted the ground but not even five seconds later it was gone, he felt pain and then felt nothing. It was something he was used to, feeling pain and then feeling numb, yet somehow, it was different now. Something was off, he just didn't know what.

He thought back to Jisung, how the black crawled up his arm and tainted his pale skin like black ink spilled on a fresh canvas. He remembered his cold but warm hands on his chest, the feeling of freedom that his touch gave him and the feeling of torment when it left him. It wasn't time, but for what? Mark's eyes felt heavy, he suddenly missed the younger male, how his touch put him to ease, how upon seeing him he felt alive. Now there was nothing and only nothing.

* * *

Renjun sighed, walking down the street on his way home. He passed by a nearby graveyard, a figure standing in front of one of the tombstones. A small voice came from the graveyard.

"I'm sorry, Jisung. If..." The person pauses, "If anything happens to Mark... Please, take care of him for me..."

Suddenly, Renjun recognizes the voice, it belongs to Chenle. He glances at his friend one last time, his form glowing in the moonlight before he continues his walk back home. When Renjun arrives home, he is met with the pitch black of the interior of his house, and the silence that carries throughout it. He's immediately struck with loneliness. He's overcome with sadness, he doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know how to stop the tears once they start falling. He throws his things down to the floor, whether it's in anger or despair he doesn't know.

His back slides down the door, his head immediately finding its way to his knees as he sobs. Mandarin slips past his lips in jumbled slurs and sobs, his hand balling into a fist and hitting the floor multiple times. For once, Renjun is at a loss and he doesn't know why. 

* * *

Renjun walks down the hall of the hospital, trying his best to remember which room number was Mark's. He comes across a familiar set of doors, though he couldn't remember if Mark's room was the left door or the right door. He decided to go with the left, upon opening the door he feels as if he's made the wrong choice.

A thin, frail boy is sitting up in his bed, his finger dragging along a page of the book he was reading. The boy turns his head, his honey brown hair bouncing as he does so. His eyes crinkle, a confused smile teasing his lips. Renjun feels his cheeks heat up and his heart involuntarily lurch in his chest.

"O-Oh... Sorry. W-wrong... room." He cheeks flush even deeper as he struggles to find the correct Korean words to use.

The boy smiles sweetly, a hint of sadness hiding in his eyes, "I-it's alright..." He looks back down to his book, letting Renjun know that he could leave, however, as he tries to do so, a small voice speaks up, "Could you stay... with me? Just for a little bit?"

Renjun is caught off guard, accidentally slipping back into mandarin as he responds, " _I guess, I can only stay for a bit though... I'm here to visit a friend._ " Renjun steps back into the room.

The boy laughs, a small smile spreading across his features as he looks up from his book once more, "I didn't understand a thing you just said." He straightens his form as he sits up more, "That's okay though, I'm glad you're here. I'm Jaemin."

"R-Renjun."


End file.
